Limbo
by thejigsawtimess
Summary: Dean feels betrayed. Castiel feels similarly. A freak accident ends the two of them alone in Limbo for an unknown amount of time. With nothing else to entertain except each other, they're going to have to work this out somehow. Set at the end of 6x21 'Let It Bleed' before Castiel finds Dr Visyak.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, all! So I just want to say, that I was struck SIMULTANEOUSLY by two Destiel fic ideas, one is another sort of Crack!Fic one and then there was this one, so basically I asked people to vote for which one I should write first and voila. So, short version: I'll be writing two fics in quick succession. But I'm really looking forward to writing this as I feel it will express my feels adequately, I have a LOT of feels. So, that's all really, hope you enjoy, I'm usually pretty good at updating every day. Reviews are always loved :) x **

Sam was concerned. It had been three days since Lisa and Ben's memories had been wiped and Dean wasn't showing any signs of getting over it. When Dean had first explained what he'd asked Castiel to do, Sam had initially thought he was lying, or at least exaggerating. That his brother was willing to give up the only real chance he'd ever had at a normal life just so that two people he cared about wouldn't be in danger was noble, yes, but in Sam's eyes it was also selfish. Lisa and Ben had no control over their own memory anymore, and they had both loved Dean. He was depriving them of that.

It didn't seem to matter though. Dean sat on Bobby's couch three days later, his silhouette illuminated in the angel-sigil obscured windows behind him. He had been sharpening stakes with Ruby's knife methodically ever since they got back, stopping only for sleep, food and the bathroom. Sam decided enough was enough.

"Dean." Sam said in a low voice, marching across the room and looming over his brother with his impressive form. Dean said nothing. He didn't even look up from sharpening. "Dean, we need to get to work."

"I know, Sammy." Dean murmured, still not looking up. Sam waited for a few moments, almost expecting Dean to jump into action and shove the depression deep down into the corners of his mind like he always did. When it was clear that he wasn't going to move, Sam sighed and walked into the kitchen to find Bobby.

* * *

Dean was sharpening. Sharpening was fine. It was something he knew how to do, something that aided them in hunting – because you can never have enough stakes handy in Dean's opinion – and something that allowed him to think. Sam could hardly argue that he was doing nothing, in fact he was getting a hell of a lot done. In the past three days he had managed to carve thirty-three stakes, and in the process, he had had time to mull things over. Not that it had helped much, he would admit.

After about the third stake, Dean identified the feeling that was currently drowning him inside and out as utter **betrayal**. Dean liked to think of himself as a fairly simple guy and he was certain that almost everyone he knew, if they were ever asked to describe him, would choose the adjective 'loyal'.  
Dean knew this because he was aware that there was little he cared about as much as his friends and family, and he was sure that he would go to his eventual grave defending them and protecting them with every ounce of strength in his body. Consequently, it was little wonder that Dean took it so hard when someone he had come to care about so deeply betrayed his trust and took advantage of that loyalty.

First it was Sammy with the demon blood. His naïve, reckless little brother had gone and got himself a _demon _girlfriend and through trusting her instead of Dean, his own brother, had nearly started the goddamn apocalypse. Soon afterwards, Dean privately thought that it must be true what they say about blood being thicker than water, because despite Dean being family, it was Ruby's blood thrumming through Sam's veins.

And now, as if the first betrayal wasn't bad enough, Castiel had decided to rip the longer leash Dean had given him to shreds and run off on his own, deciding to pair up with Crowley. Of all people. And dammit, it wasn't fair. Dean's sharpening got angrier as he thought about Castiel, and his brow furrowed in the half light from the obscured window.

Castiel was an _angel._ He really thought he wouldn't have to put up with this kind of shit from him. Angels are supposed to be good and decent and full of love or whatever. They are not supposed to make secret, shady deals with the King of Hell in order to defeat their enemies.

After everything Cas had done for him, died for him, saved him countless times, why did he do this? How could he do this? All Dean had ever done was trust him. It felt like his soul was bruised. Maybe it was, who knows what Cas did with him on the trip up from Hell? Dean stopped sharpening, realising he had filed the stake down to an unusable nub. Angrily, he threw it onto the pile of others at his feet and wrenched up the short sleeve of his t-shirt to reveal the faded pink handprint burned into his flesh. He used to catch sight of it sometimes after a shower, or in bed in the mornings and be momentarily dumbstruck, unable to do anything other than stare and gingerly run a fingertip over the scarred skin, thinking that a goddam _Angel of the Lord _did that, and he did it because he thought _I deserved to be saved_.  
Now all Dean could think was that it would forever serve as a constant reminder of one of his closest friends turning on him.

_It's like having a damn tattoo of an ex-girlfriend's name_, he thought, annoyed, chastising himself when he realised he'd just compared Cas to an ex-girlfriend.

Dean pulled the sleeve back down, hiding his permanent Castiel friendship bracelet from the world, and stood up for the first time in several hours. His knees clicked as if in protest, and Dean winced, but marched forwards purposefully, sending stakes rolling around the room with a clatter. He found Sam and Bobby sitting at the kitchen table. They both looked momentarily stunned at the sight of him.

"Okay," Dean said, placing his hands on his hips and trying to sound like he was on top of this situation, "what are we waiting for? Let's get to work."

Sam rolled his eyes.

* * *

It took them a few hours to come up with a plan, and even then it wasn't a very good one, but Dean guessed that while he'd been moping – it turned out Sam thought he was upset over Lisa and Ben, which he was in part, but to be honest he knew they were far better off without him; you'd have to be an idiot not to see that – Cas and Crowley had been cooking up some schemes of their own, and had almost undoubtedly worked out that Dr Visyak was the key to the very heavily locked gate to Purgatory, meaning they were several steps, or perhaps several miles, behind.

The first part of the plan was easy. It was a race for both teams; whoever gets to Dr Visyak first wins. Luckily for Team Winchester (& Singer), Bobby was on a (cough) first name basis with the Doctor herself. As soon as Bobby managed to get in touch and find out where she was hiding, the three hunters went down to collect her and drive her to an abandoned warehouse near to Bobby's repair shop in Sioux Falls.

Funnily enough, this part of the plan ran smoothly, and despite Dean driving like an old lady because he was so sure that his own personal angel was going to appear in the middle of the highway at any moment, they managed to escort Eleanor Visyak from her far-from-inconspicuous 'safehouse', complete with pillars, a fountain and a damn _peacock _strutting around, all the way to a run-down, leaking and fairly grey looking building somewhere in South Dakota. Dean had to hand it to her, she did her best to look grateful to them.

But none of the men were really that worried about the first part, it was the rest of the plan that was going to be difficult to put into action. With a nod from Dean, Bobby led Dr Visyak inside the building, going to find a room to put her in for now, as they'd agreed, and cover it with as many angel-sigils as possible. The boys watched them enter the warehouse from their position by the car.

"I guess we'd better get started then." Dean said to Sam, walking round to the boot of the Impala without waiting for a reply.

"Dean, are you sure we have enough? This place is bigger than I thought."

"We have enough." Dean said firmly, opening the trunk and pulling out two large paint tins, each with viscous, golden oil dripping down the sides. Sam sighed in resignation, still looking unsure, and grabbed two more tins.

* * *

An hour later they were all in position, stationed outside the door leading to the room where Dr Visyak currently sat, awaiting her fate and trying not to get cobwebs on her outfit. The boys had gone over the plan three times with her, separately, in case she decided she trusted one of them more than the others. They were fairly certain she knew what to do.

Sam held an angel sword in his hand. He'd tried to give one to Dean, but all it had taken was one look into his brother's slightly glistening eyes, and he knew that Dean couldn't kill that particular angel even if he wanted to. Sam had given the sword to Bobby instead, and gone to stand right in front of the door.

Along with the angel-sword, Bobby also held a shotgun, filled with bullets of rock salt. He still hadn't gotten over that whole you-have-to-kiss-me-and-also-I'm-taking-photographic-evidence-along-with-your-soul thing. He was going to get a shot at Crowley if it killed him.

Dean clutched a good old iron rod. He liked to stick to the basics, and if he knew one thing for sure, it was that Demons, even King Demons, loathed iron. He was planning on leaving Cas to Sam and Bobby, although he doubted the angel would let it go down that way. Still, he could always hope. Well hope, and slice open his arm to draw a good old-fashioned angel-banishing sigil on the wall behind a piece of scrap metal over near the door.

* * *

Half an hour later and Sam started to fidget, wondering if maybe he could have got something wrong when he sent Castiel a ransom-prayer broadcasting their whereabouts and the fact they have Dr Visyak. He wished he could have gotten Dean to do the praying, as Castiel rarely responded to Sam and _always _responded to Dean, but he sensed that wouldn't have been a reasonable favour to ask of his brother at this moment in time, judging by the heartbroken pang of emotion that shot through his face whenever anyone even spoke the angel's name.

"Sammy!" Dean shouted back at him, with unnecessary anger, Sam thought. "Why aren't they here? Did you screw up?"

Sam sucked in a breath, ready to defend his praying skills admirably, but he was interrupted by a sudden commotion as Crowley suddenly appeared in front of the three men, and Bobby rushed straight at him with a yell, gun raised. Crowley looked shocked at the sudden cry but smirked and raised a hand, preparing to mojo Bobby out of his way.

"No!" Sam and Dean cried together, realising what was about to happen, and they started to move towards the Demon, knowing full well it was too late.

Crowley swiped his hand through the air with a flourish, smiling wickedly. Nothing happened. Bobby reached the Demon and shoved the barrel of his gun hard against Crowley's chest. Crowley was frowning and looking at his hands, too preoccupied with why his own powers weren't working to take Bobby's vengeful quest into account.

"I hope this hurts you goddamn soul-stealing bastard!" Bobby yelled into Crowley's face, forcing the King of Hell to focus on him at last, and fired the gun. The blast shot a hole straight through Crowley and he screamed in agony, falling to his knees and clutching his bleeding chest.

Bobby backed off, panting heavily and smiling a little, holding the smoking shotgun close. After a few moments, Crowley seemed to recover enough to look up. Upon seeing Bobby, his blood-stained lips curled into a snarl.

"Now," Crowley said, breathing heavily, "why would you think that's a good idea?"

Slowly, he picked himself up off of the floor, still holding his chest, and began to move towards Bobby, a dangerous look in his eyes. He stopped short after a few paces, as if walking into an invisible barrier. He looked confusedly around him. Bobby grinned and blew the smoke away from the barrel of his gun, pointing at the ceiling to show Crowley the gigantic pentagram demon trap he had painted there earlier. Crowley let out a drawn out groan. Sam and Dean couldn't help flashing each other a quick smile. Oh yes, the King of Hell was their little bitch. At least for a little while.

"Well, yes. Excellent plan fellas. Truly." Crowley said, pacing the perimeters of his new prison to check the size. "You missed one thing though. Or did you forget? Your little guardian Angel is _my _new best friend now." Crowley said, looking Dean directly in the eyes and grinning. Dean's jaw twitched and he clutched his iron bar tighter.

As if on cue, there was a sudden flap of wings from nearby, and before Dean could really prepare himself at all, Castiel was standing there, next to Crowley's trap, in the same damn too-huge trenchcoat - and wasn't that just perfect? Why did he have to look like Cas, Dean's innocent, awkward friend, even after he'd done something this terrible?

Dean was frozen, and could only watch as Castiel took in the scene before him. Bobby lunged towards him, still out of breath from the Crowley attack, his angel-sword raised. Castiel looked up in plenty of time and dodged him, alarmed. He noticed Sam and Dean over by the door to Dr Visyak's room, Sam with one hand on the handle, as if staking the claim on it. Then his face grew dark. In a blip he was over at the door, and Sam was suddenly wrestling him, holding up his angel sword…

_No._

It was the only thought Dean could decipher from the thousands whirling around in his mind. It didn't make a lick of sense, but he knew he needed to stop Sam. He couldn't let this happen. There was no time for thinking things through rationally. He ran at Castiel, slamming into him with impressive force that would be enough to floor a regular guy, but Castiel was no regular guy, and the impact only knocked him back slightly from Sam, forcing the angel to focus on Dean, who had his arms wrapped around his middle in a deadly grip. For a few terrible moments wherein Dean thought he might explode from the gut-wrenching misery overwhelming him, Castiel just looked confusedly down at the older Winchester, and if he'd tilted his head Dean was sure he would have died on the spot, because _God, it's like we're back in a crummy motel and I made some pop culture reference he's querying me about for the thousandth time._

Instead, Castiel found only sad, determined anger in Dean's face, and so he began to grapple with him, struggling to free himself, and fighting off Dean's sudden oncoming blows.

In the midst of the tussle, a thought lurched into Dean's face that almost made him laugh hysterically; _this is the only time I've ever hugged the guy._

Castiel turned them around as they struggled together, and over the angel's shoulder Dean caught a glimpse of Sam pulling the angel sword back, as if about to plunge it forwards, an apologetic look cast half-heartedly towards him.

Dean's mind went blank and he suddenly yanked on the angel's coat lapels, pulling him away from Sam, dragging him over towards a piece of scrap metal leaning against the wall. Castiel clutched at Dean's arms, trying to wrench them away from him, and Dean felt a tremor run through him as Cas unknowingly gripped the very same spot he had down in the blistering, black depths of Hell all that time ago. He blinked away the stinging sensation in his eyes and kicked the metal away. Castiel's eyes opened wide in shock, and Dean slammed a hand against the sigil.

Castiel screamed and a burst of bright white light shot through the room; Dean felt him tremor and shake beneath his hands, saw the brilliant light glow in his eyes. He watched the light engulf Castiel from his face, down his arms, all in a matter of milliseconds. Then without warning, he felt his left deltoid _burn, _as if someone poured boiling acid straight onto the skin. He screamed in pain, and squeezed his eyes shut just in time to shut out the light that suddenly shot through his body.

As he welcomed the unconsciousness that began to drift over him, thankfully dulling the pain, Dean was vaguely aware of Sam, screaming at Dr Visyak to throw the flaming bottle out of the window, setting the ring of Jerusalem oil that surrounded the building ablaze, but it was too late... far too late for that. A black veil started to cloud Dean's mind, swallowing every one of his senses. He decided to focus on Castiel, his crisp, smooth trenchcoat solid beneath his hands, still clutching his scar like his life depended on it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello again, thankyou for reading and reviewing the first chapter, I'm sorry if you had to wait for this one but I COULD NOT STOP WRITING. I have no idea where to cut the chapters up for these next parts, so sorry if it's in a random place. I think it's nearly finished now, yay! Reviewers get all my love and omg has anyone seen the SPN spoiler trailer for season gr8 tonight? Eeeeek! xxx**

When he awoke, it was to the sight of Castiel leaned over him, a single crease in his brow signalling his concern. As soon as Dean's eyelids fluttered open, the angel's eyes seemed to soften, as though relief had washed the worry away. Dean groaned, fighting against the thick, heavy feeling that was trying to slow down his awakening process, and struggled to sit up.

Castiel leaned backwards and scooted a few feet away from where Dean now sat, wrapping his hands around his knees and staring into the space in front of him.

Dean grimaced at the sight of him and reached up to massage his neck, one of the many places on his body which was now aching mercilessly. Slowly, as he recovered, Dean began to drink in his surroundings. He paused, his hand stopping abruptly mid-rub. He looked from left to right and spun around to glance behind him, before concluding that yes, he was absolutely surrounded by nothing.

The only colour visible was white, forcing Dean to squint if he looked too long, and there was no sign of a seam where the floor (which Dean only knew existed because he was sitting on it) met the wall, or any corners, or doors, or even _anything _besides Dean himself and Cas, sitting huddled over on his left.

Dean tried not to panic.

"Cas?! Where the hell are we?" Dean couldn't help almost yelping, hating himself for using the nickname.

Castiel didn't turn to look at Dean, instead he merely spoke to the blank white space in front of him, sighing a little before the words tumbled out. "We are in Limbo, Dean."

Dean wanted to kick him. _Oh, yeah Limbo of course. Know it like the back of my hand. _

"Uh-huh. Right. And that's where, exactly?!" Dean asked, leaning towards Castiel, but not moving any closer.

Castiel sighed again. "It's not a question of where, Dean. It's more a question of what." For a second Dean thought he wasn't going to elaborate, making him want to punch something. "Limbo is outside the realm of reality. It's almost like a waiting room I suppose, people are sent here occasionally for various reasons, and Angels are sent here when that banishing sigil I showed you is used upon them."

Guilt suddenly flooded through Dean's veins in a shock wave at the thought that he was constantly using Castiel's own methods of defence against him, but he quickly shook it off.

"Angels are sent here? Fine. Why am I here then?!" Dean couldn't help but yell, standing up as if to emphasise his anger.

Castiel still stared out into the nothingness, apparently unaffected by Dean's sudden movements. Dean noticed that he cast a guilty look downwards before speaking.

"I believe it is because I was… touching you on the mark I left on your shoulder." Dean's eyebrows shot up, but he had to admit it sounded likely, judging by all that burning going on around that area. "I'm not certain of the specifics, but that mark is there because it is the place I touched you in order to pour my grace into your soul. I had to use so much though, in order to fix you…" Cas shook his head a little, as if remembering, "…your soul was so broken in my hands. Perhaps even now you have some grace left inside you. Perhaps that is the reason I was able to pull you along with me."

Dean tried to speak, but it was as if Castiel had dried up his vocal chords. He'd thought that the mark was just Castiel getting a bit too excited on the journey back and leaving an accidental brand on him. To find out that Castiel had used… what sounded like a _lot _of his own angelic grace to stitch Dean's tattered soul back together… it was too much to comprehend. How difficult must the journey back from Hell have been for an angel with half his mojo gone?

Dean stared at Castiel's profile, silently sending him a thank you, trying desperately not to think of the terrible person Castiel had saved him from becoming, and trying not to care if the angel heard it. Then he pushed the thoughts of Hell away.

"Well, uh, thanks for the ride here Cas, I gotta say it's been a blast, now which way to the nearest get-me-the-hell-out-of-here point?"

Castiel glanced up at Dean for the first time and actually smirked before going back to staring into space. "There is no way out, Dean. I taught you that sigil for a reason; Angels are stuck here until someone finds them. We must await our rescue." Cas said the last part through gritted teeth, and Dean tried not to snicker when he thought about how many times Castiel must have been stuck in this situation before, probably with much worse company too. The moment was short lived as Castiel began to smirk again.

Dean stormed over to stand before Castiel, intent on wiping the twisted smile off of his treacherous, conniving face, when suddenly the world began to shift around him. Beneath his feet a hard, stone floor appeared, stretching off into a faraway horizon. Dean watched, mouth agape, as huge, black cracks splintered through the newly formed rock, and wisps of steam started to rise from within, as though it were the floor of a volcano or cave deep underground. He glanced down at Cas, still sitting in the same position, now on the smoking rocky surface. He looked utterly unfazed by the situation.

"Uh, Cas, are you seeing this?!" Dean asked, repressed panic in his voice as he whipped his head around. Flames began to burst into life around the two men from nowhere, sparking angrily every few minutes and radiating intense heat. The blinding whiteness was replaced with swirling scarlets and ambers, intertwining with each other like watercolours left to run freely on a page.

Castiel looked around, only mildly interested in the new occurrences, unlike Dean, who couldn't seem to decide which part of this strange event was more worthy of his attention.

"Limbo is not a place, Dean, as I have said before. It is almost an entity; a living thing. In itself it has no character to speak of, so it will create its own manifestations from whatever it is you or I are feeling."

"In English, please?!" Dean yelled over the sound of the now audible screams and clashes from somewhere in the distance.

"You are angry with me, furious actually, so it would appear, and this is how Limbo is choosing to represent your feelings." Castiel said loudly in response, finally standing up after seeing his trenchcoat was about to be singed.

_Ah, _Dean thought. _So if I calm down a little?_

Dean forced the anger down into his gut, still feeling the burn of his fury from deep within him. He thought of Sam, his baby brother who was probably worried as hell right now, poring over some library book or other, and of Bobby, who in some ways was more of a father than he ever could have hoped for, probably helping him, with significantly more liquor.

The flames sizzled out almost immediately, and instead thin wisps of black smoke snaked across the floor, wrapping themselves around Dean and Castiel's ankles. The air around them faded from scorching red and orange to a mild coral and pink, and the floor began to stitch back together, leaving a smooth stone surface in its place.

Dean couldn't help but grin. "Okay, that's kinda cool." He said reluctantly.

Thickly stemmed vines began to sprout beneath Dean's feet, spiralling outwards and blossoming into bulbous blue flowers. Dean stared down in wonder, toeing one of the plants with his foot. Castiel stared at Dean for a moment.

"I am truly sorry, Dean." He said.

When Dean looked up he had fire in his eyes. "Well, I don't accept." Dean spat, his mouth in a grim line. "What are you even apologising for?!" Dean asked angrily, struggling to keep a lid on the rage lest the world around them become fiery once more. Even at this one utterance, the plants snaking from beneath Dean's feet suddenly blackened and turned to ash.

"For Crowley. I did not know he would take Lisa and Ben. I'm sorry that you lost them." Castiel said gravely, his eyes careful as he stared into Dean's. Dean scoffed and gritted his teeth, looking away. "And for lying to you. That is something which upset me deeply, I wish it wasn't necessary."

"It wasn't damn necessary!" Flames burst into life to lick at Dean's ankles, and the sounds of clattering and yelling from far off started up again. "You should have told me, Cas! You should have come to me, and we would have worked it out together, all of us, like we always do-"

"You wouldn't have been able to help me, Dean! None of you would! You're human! Yes, you managed to lock up Lucifer again, but the only reason that was ever possible was because it was already written in your destinies that you would!" A wide crack began to lurch along the floor between the two of them as they argued, its inky depths getting more and more ominous as it increased in size. Dean was a little shocked, he had only seen Castiel this angry once before, and after that episode he had ended up with a bloodied face and a few severely bruised ribs.

"We've taken on angels before, Cas-"

"Raphael is an archangel! He's far more powerful, and he has an entire army under him. I refuse to justify myself any further to you Dean. I apologise if your feelings were hurt by my actions, I truly do, but at the end of the day," Castiel huffed out a laugh and cast an arm out wildly, causing a sudden spray of what looked like lava to shoot through a crack in the floor nearby, "I'm doing it for you! So that you'll survive and Raphael won't _kill _you! What is it to me if the world ends? I'm an Angel, I'll be fine! I only ever do anything to protect _you, _now! And why?" It suddenly seemed like Castiel was genuinely asking. His voice dropped to a quieter pitch. "You hate me. Why am I still doing this?"

Castiel turned from Dean, hiding his face from the hunter. Perhaps he had finally learnt how his every emotion was splattered so obviously over his vessel's face. The thought made Dean sad; he liked being able to read Cas so well, he felt it levelled the playing field, seeing as Cas literally knew him inside out. As the angel turned his back, the flames started to ebb away once more, and the black smoke returned, crawling along the ground, thinner and more translucent now. Dean felt an overwhelming urge to step towards him, to place a gentle hand on his angel and reassure him that they would find a way out of this mess. But he placed one foot forward and felt the edge of the slowly widening crack brush the underside of his boot. It was too wide. He couldn't reach him from here.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Two Chapters in one day?! Gosh, are we all dreaming? I've recently decided that for my next holiday I'm going to Limbo, and for my next husband I'm having Castiel. Lol. Jk he's all Dean's. Reviewers are ANGELS. And that means Cas is your brother so win-win. xxx**

"Cas…" Dean tried, not really sure of what he was about to say. The Angel didn't turn around. "Castiel, you've got to listen to me, man. Now, I get that you're new to all this, but at the end of the day, you made me care about you." Dean gave a small chuckle, and several tiny, silvery stars glowed into life above his head, twinkling in place for a moment before drifting away into the air around them. "And that is a damn hard thing to do. You came into my life at the worst possible time – I was literally at my lowest point. I felt like a murderer and a monster for the things I'd done in Hell, and you stuck by me through it all, so I thought you must be worth trusting. And you're a goddamn Angel!"

Dean was momentarily stunned to silence by the two enormous wings that shot out from Castiel's shoulder blades at the word 'Angel', passing right through his clothes with seemingly no trouble at all. They were huge, stretching above Castiel's head, their feathery tips ending below the hem of his trenchcoat. They shimmered and rippled in the pinkish light, and Dean blinked a few times, trying to put a name to their colour but coming up with only 'translucent'. Except they weren't; they were every colour he knew, and every colour he didn't. Each feather shone like glass, yet Dean could see every individual soft strand that made them up. His fingers tingled desperately with the urge to touch.

Suddenly Castiel turned to face Dean, apparently unaware of the sudden manifestation of his wings. His head was tilted slightly in confusion, and Dean realised he'd stopped speaking mid-sentence. Now that cerulean eyes were upon him, Dean tried (and failed) not to look at the wings.

"Uh, yeah, you're, um, an Angel. So… what I mean is, I thought I'd be able to trust a freaking Angel of the Lord! So I let you in, I let myself think of you as… as… whatever you are – were. And you just friggin' pulled the rug out from underneath me, Cas! Didn't you think about how this might look to me? If you only ever did this for me – which I find to be complete _bullshit _by the way – you wouldn't just go and betray me like everyone else does!"

A sickening crack echoed through the air as Dean finished yelling, and both men looked down at the ground between them. The crack running through the middle of their little scene had widened significantly already, but now it ripped open, tearing the two away from each other and creating a huge chasm. It happened in a matter of seconds, and then suddenly they were far apart. Castiel cast an anxious look at Dean, the first time he'd shown any sort of concern about the happenings in Limbo, and Dean suddenly felt scared.

_Shit, we can probably die in this goddamn place._

Dean watched, horrified, as the hole in between them started to fill with dark, gloomy water, complete with reeds and lily pads and _is that a goddamn fish_, until an entire lake separated them from each other. The shouting and clamouring continued uninterrupted from behind him, and he turned, unable to help his curiosity to try and find out what was causing it.

"Dean, you betrayed me too!" Castiel shouted across the water, making Dean look up in surprise. "Do you really think that I don't think of you as my family in equal amounts? I asked you over and over to trust me and stand beside me, and you refused!"Castiel sounded bitter, and Dean wondered briefly how buried these feelings were. "I wonder if you can imagine how it feels to have both your families turn on you." At that, the water stopped its gentle rippling, and a thick layer of grey-blue ice splintered over the surface in a matter of seconds. Dean wasted no time. Who knew how long it would be before Castiel's emotions changed and Limbo decided to go with the flow? He gingerly placed a foot on the surface of the lake, breathing a sigh of relief when it remained sturdy beneath him.

"No, I don't Cas. But I can't follow you. Not when you're workin' with Crowley. Come back to me, come back to us Cas, and we'll follow you anywhere you wanna go." Dean yelled to Castiel's distant outline, his wings still looming impressively behind him. Dean moved forwards carefully, praying the ice would hold him.

"You say that you thought you wouldn't have trust issues with an Angel?" Castiel said unexpectedly, apparently ignoring Dean's request. "I suppose in most cases you would be right to think that. However, I have always found myself… different from my brothers and sisters in that respect."

Castiel paced a few steps around the outskirts of the pond, choosing not to watch Dean's death-defying mission.

"They always seem to have a sense of moral guidance. It's like it's rooted within them. I have often felt that I don't possess that particular quality." Castiel frowned, and an image swam into Dean's brain as he picked his way across the less cracked-looking ice: of Castiel on a bench near a children's park, confessing his doubt about the morality of his orders. "I never truly know which is the right path, Dean. Except once." Here he looked up at Dean, catching the hunter's eye and giving him a rare smile, eyes twinkling. Several suns rose behind him, their rays glinting off of his prism-like feathers.

"When I found you in Hell, you were so beautiful." Castiel's voice couldn't have been more than a murmur, but in this strange place Dean heard every syllable. "You had been torn to pieces, beaten down to barely a fraction of what you once were. I wept for you and carried you in my arms, vowing that I would do whatever it took to restore you to your good, righteous self. That is all I have ever done, or tried to do since."

Dean was silent. He stopped, halfway across the lake and stared. Castiel had the strangest ability to make him speechless. Wordlessly, he carried on edging closer, a bit faster now.

"It's… complicated for me, being human." Castiel's brow furrowed. "I can't seem to get it right. No matter what I do, I can't seem to make things better for you." When Castiel looked up, Dean was close enough to see that there were tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry I failed in this task, Dean. It was the only one that was ever really important to me."

Dean's eyes stung, and he blinked away what he refused to believe were tears in favour of reaching his goal. He reached the other side eventually and found himself in front of Cas, suddenly unsure of what to say. Instead of words he opted for a hug – something he did with Sam often when things got too emotional. He placed his hands on the angel's shoulders and pulled him into an awkward embrace, only made awkward by the fact it took Castiel several moments to figure out he was supposed to do more than just stand rigidly in Dean's arms. At length, he moved his hands to rest lightly upon Dean's waist, and relaxed his shoulders.

"Cas, if you ever tell anyone I said this I'm going to have to kick your angelic ass," Dean muttered into Castiel's shoulder, "but you need to hear it. You make me happy anyway, dumbass. You don't need to fix the world in order to fix me. The only thing I need from you is… I just need you to be _there_, okay man? Jeez, why is this stuff so difficult to say?" Dean stepped back from the hug, chuckling slightly at himself.

Castiel was looking extremely confused. Dean sighed, his smile slipping away, one hand still resting on the angel's arm.

"Why'd you have to ruin it, Cas?" Dean asked, looking at the thin sliver of ground between them. Night fell all around them, ominous and black, a yellow moon glowing in the centre of the sky above. "We were almost perfect. Like a little fucked up family – you, me and Sammy. Team Free Will, remember?"

Dean looked up at Cas to see if he did, finding the angel's face hidden in shadow, the only things visible being his bright, curious eyes and the incandescent brilliance of his wings. Dean saw something move out of the corner of his eye and flinched, used to being attacked by wild creatures in the dead of night, but it was just Castiel's hand, reaching up to brush his knuckles against his cheek.

"I do remember, Dean." Castiel said quietly, and the ice on the lake split down the centre, cracking into pieces and sending water spilling over the edges. Dean gasped and started to move away, but Castiel laid a hand upon his left shoulder, holding him in place.

_I find it highly unlikely that he doesn't know it gives me goosebumps whenever he touches my scar._

They watched together as the water overflowed and began to run in all directions but their own, an impossible volume surely, for the contents of that lake. Soon, they were staring at an inky ocean that stretched far into the distance, the moon a golden beacon above the rippling waves. Dean laughed in wonder and sank to his knees, digging his hands into the soft, fine sand upon which they now stood.

Castiel sat down next to him, and Dean noticed he was smiling. Over the noise of the waves, Dean could still hear the commotion.

"Cas, what's that sound?" Dean asked, sitting back, unable to bear the weight of his own curiosity any longer.

"I can't be sure, but I believe Limbo may be dimensionally located near Heaven. If I had to guess, I'd say we were hearing the noise of the war currently raging within Heaven's walls." Castiel replied evenly, a look of contentment on his face that jarred against the words he was saying.

Dean stared at Cas. "_Heaven? _That screaming and pounding? But what about all the souls that live there? Won't they be caught in the crossfire?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Now you're beginning to understand my predicament." Castiel answered, turning to Dean. "When I sought Crowley's assistance, I did it for you, of course, I was worried for you. I also did it to prove myself to you. I didn't want to have to ask you for help in order to save those people, because you have too many lives in your hands already, and those are only the ones on Earth." Dean opened his mouth to protest but Castiel held up a hand to silence him. "You will deny this but you look at me as though I were some kind of undefeatable hero, an all powerful weapon. It is wrong of course, to think of me this way, but I wanted to prove to you that you can believe in a greater power that is _good. _I wanted to be your hero, so that you wouldn't have to do it this time."

Castiel stared out to sea, and Dean tried not to move as he stretched his wings into the dark air, rustling them quietly and settling them back into place. Dean gulped, his throat suddenly dry.

"Maybe I wanted… perhaps I thought that if I fixed the world, there was a chance you'd love me an ounce of the amount I love you, Dean Winchester."

If Dean was surprised before, now he was downright shell-shocked. He lifted his head up at Castiel's declaration, unable to process what was being said. He tried to catch Castiel's eye, but the Angel was apparently adamant in staring out in front of him.

_Right… okay… Castiel loves me. An Angel of the Lord loves me. I have no idea how to deal with this situation. He's a freaking Angel! Wait. No. He's Cas. Hell, I love Cas. I mean… not like… he's just a nerdy little Angel. Who broke into Hell and pulled me out. And died for me. And saved me and Sam over and over… Maybe there's a reason I took it so hard when I found out about him and Crowley. I mean, Bobby and Sam and Balthazar and Gabriel are always teasing me and saying we're in love, but I'm not actually in love with him… am I? _

Dean glanced over at the Angel sitting next to him, wings splayed out slightly behind him as though he were letting them breathe. There was a faint smile on his lips, illuminated by the brilliant, ethereal glow of the moon against the water. The feeling that coursed through Dean's body in that moment was not an unfamiliar one. Smiling, he scooted closer to Castiel, who turned to look at him, surprised.

Really, it was the perfect opportunity to lean in and kiss the smile on his lips. Castiel tasted like rain, and light, and electricity. At first he was gentle, keeping in mind that this was a pure, virginal angel he had here on their pretend beach in nowhereland. He couldn't stop Castiel though, who to Dean's delight, reached up and slid his hand up the back of Dean's head, raking his long fingers through his hair.

Dean wrapped a tight arm around Castiel's shoulders, pulling him closer against him, and they felt the world shift around them once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi! Okay, sorry I didn't update yesterday I won't go into why, sorry this chapter's a bit short, I will write more tonight I promise! I have to go out for a while, so I couldn't write any more just yet, but I hope you like this, there's lots of kissing and such so... I would like it. Haha, thank you sooo much for reviewing :) xxx**

Dean was only vaguely aware of the sand underneath him as it turned to billions of dewy blades of grass; he leaned closer into Castiel's lips, pulling the Angel towards him because he was suddenly desperate, and a need consumed him as though it had been locked away for months, only now allowed to break free. Castiel didn't notice the thinner, colder air whipping around him as he parted his lips and slid his tongue against Dean's, prising him open. Dean's eyes were closed, and he didn't witness the sudden shift as the once-beach where they sat rose up high into the air, jutting into a deep purple sky. He leaned back and Castiel moved with him, sliding his leg over until he was straddling Dean's lap, never breaking the kiss.

Dean tried not to moan and he wrapped his hands around Cas's waist eagerly, opening his eyes in shock when he felt the absence of trenchcoat beneath his fingers, quickly concluding that Limbo must have decided that was a fashion monstrosity. At the sight before him he opened them wider and broke away. Castiel looked down at him, head cocked in confusion, and _Hell, if that isn't even more adorable when he's sitting on my damn lap._

Dean was too stunned to move. His hands were frozen in place at Castiel's waist, and mere inches away from his itching fingers were two damn _Angel wings._ He didn't want to break the spell, didn't want to have to speak, so he just breathed in deeply, and ran his hands up to Castiel's shoulder blades. At the point of contact, Castiel gasped and his eyes flew open wider in shock.

"D-Dean…" The hunter smiled, mildly awestruck, and with a racing pulse, pushed his trembling fingers into the glassy feathers at the base of each wing. Castiel gasped and shuddered, writhing a little on top of him. As if Dean wasn't already aroused enough from the situation.

The wings appeared to be a state between liquid and gas, seeming to have no weight, or particular texture. Dean found, to Castiel's enjoyment it seemed, that he could pass his entire hand through the thick feathers and out the other side. It wasn't that he felt nothing when he touched the wings, far from it, but the sensations were too other-worldly to describe. He could feel their energy radiating through him as he plunged further in, and he could feel them caressing him as though they were alive in themselves, although of course Dean knew Castiel was controlling them. Dean glanced at Castiel, who had buried his face in Dean's neck, gasping and shivering at every touch. Dean smiled, if someone had come along and told him this was Heaven, he wouldn't have batted an eyelid.

Reluctantly, he drew his hands out of the feathery mass, feeling Castiel convulse again on top of him. He slid his hands up to Cas's biceps, and gently eased him backwards a bit, just enough to be able to capture his lips again in a soft kiss. It was slower and more languid this time, Castiel seemed a bit drained after the wing-touching, as if Dean had soaked up that energy into himself. Who knows – maybe he had, Dean didn't know how this wing stuff worked, he was just playing. Eventually, Castiel broke away, panting slightly.

"Dean," Cas murmured, leaning his forehead against the hunter's, "how can you see them?"

Dean chuckled lightly, and Castiel seemed to breathe the laughter in eagerly, "No idea, man. You know more about this place than I do."

At that, as if Dean had only just reminded him where they were, Castiel sat back on Dean's legs and looked around curiously. Dean watched him, smiling, and then noticed the place they were in for the first time.

They appeared to be on a grassy hillside, and Dean reached out a hand to stroke the coarse, completely real-feeling grass beneath them. They were high, or so it seemed, as there were clouds drifting above them, and Dean could tell that if he had any desire to move, his fingers would be able to skim them with ease. Below them was the sea they had been beside moments earlier, now a startling blue, and Dean couldn't help but think Limbo had chosen the exact colour of Castiel's eyes.

"Whenever I've been here before…" Castiel began, a look of wonder on his face as he stared out at the endless sea below, "…it's never been like this before."

Dean smiled and reached up to place a hand on Castiel's chest, liking the feel of the stiff shirt beneath his fingers. "I guess we're special."

Castiel actually chuckled and for a moment Dean wondered why he was suddenly so happy, considering all the shit that was happening in real life. He hadn't forgotten that Castiel had effectively broken his heart, but how could he concentrate on something that bleak when the sky was purple and he was with Cas, and he was _laughing _in a way Dean was pretty sure only he ever got to hear?

"Maybe…" Castiel trailed off again, seeming to be lost in thought. "When we first arrived here, you didn't wake up for two minutes and thirty-seven seconds." Dean's brow creased. He had to admit that was surprising. "I was extremely concerned, I thought perhaps the trip to Limbo was too much for a human."

Dean blinked as a droplet fell onto his nose. Another landed on his hand where it rested on the grass, and several began peppering Castiel's shirt with damp specks. He looked up at the clouds above him, and suddenly it was raining, showering them both until Dean could see the planes of Cas's chest through the near-transparent shirt plastered to his skin, and found he couldn't tell if they were tears or raindrops on the Angel's cheeks. Dean looked down at the sea, shocked as the droplets of rain sliced into the calm water like knives, creating an angry froth on the surface.

"Cas!" Dean had to yell over the sound of water clashing against water. "Did you think I'd died?!"

Cas didn't look down at Dean, he seemed not to want to, so Dean took the silence as an affirmative and studied the rain sliding over his wings instead.

"Cas, I'm gonna be fine!" Dean said loudly after a few moments, and sat up a bit to slide his hand round to Castiel's neck, pulling him down, forcing eye contact, and then lip contact. Castiel was holding back, Dean could tell, so he pushed hard against him, biting the Angel's lip until he heard him cry out over the sound of rushing water. And then Cas let go, pushing Dean down to lie on the ground underneath him, and Dean thought the water hitting the skin of his arms felt like hail now. Castiel was everywhere, but it wasn't nearly enough and Dean wrapped a leg around Castiel's, pulled him closer with his arms until they were flush against each other, kissing furiously in what looked like an oncoming storm.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry guys, this is kind of another short one, but at least two in one day again (just). This and the last one should really have been one chapter, but ain't nobody got time for that, so hope you enjoy. Next part up tomorrow! Thankyou so, so much for your lovely reviews everyone xxx**

Despite the hailstones pelting his skin, Dean felt heat thrumming through his body, pooling first in his left bicep, covering the expanse of the hand-shaped mark, and then down in his groin as Castiel slid a leg in between his own and moved over him with sinful precision. Dean moaned a little into Cas's mouth at the friction, and Cas responded, slipping his tongue inside so that Dean could only taste warmth and wetness and light.

_What the hell happened to Cas being a virginal Angel too scared to go to a damn strip club? _Dean thought, not caring in the least what the answer was. He raked his hands down Castiel's back, feeling the tiny sparks of energy radiate from the feathers inches above his fingertips. He could feel the contours of Cas's spine through his soaked shirt and he tugged at it furiously, wanting to rip it off, out of the way, to stroke the soft, damp skin underneath.

Castiel moaned into Dean's mouth as he slid his hands under the shirt, pressing his thigh hard against Dean's erection so that he swore loudly, and a furious bolt of lightning illuminated the sky around them. Dean clutched at the bare skin of Cas's back, his nails digging into the soft flesh, knowing he'd leave marks and not caring at all. Cas dragged his lips down to Dean's jaw, peppering wet, lingering kisses along the bone, and then sucking gently at the sensitive, vulnerable skin of Dean's throat. Dean arched upwards a little and turned his head to the side with a gasp, allowing Cas more room to experiment. Cas's gentle sucks became longer and wetter, and when Dean felt teeth he moaned again louder, raking his nails down to Castiel's waist.

Castiel broke away, pushing up with his hands either side of Dean's face, gazing down at the man beneath him with smoldering eyes. In that moment, lit only by the electric light of the storm, Castiel looked utterly heavenly, and Dean couldn't possibly have fought the urge to lean up and smother the Angel's reddened, swollen lips with his own. Castiel groaned as if he was fighting something primal, and he pushed Dean gently away, back down onto the grassy bank beneath them. Dean was quite satisfied with the view, and watched in rapture as Castiel leaned over him once more, his jet black hair debauched from Dean's exploring fingers and dripping with rainwater. The Angel slowly moved backwards, much to the hunter's chagrin, and he let out a strangled noise, sitting up.

Castiel removed himself from Dean's lap, but sat down close by, his wings folding tightly over his back as he placed one hand on Dean's wrist. The Angel looked down at himself, confused and Dean noticed that his shirt was smeared with blood. The rain stopped abruptly.

"I should not have let myself get so carried away. I apologise." Castiel said at once. Dean looked stunned, then frowned. "I have had… intense feelings for you for a long time. I daresay they overwhelmed me when you kissed me like that."

"What? You said you love me, right Cas?" Dean said, almost annoyed at Castiel's words. Cas nodded once and looked away, running his tongue over his lip, probably the spot where Dean had bitten him so violently. Dean tried not to track the movement too obviously. "Well, right back at ya."

Castiel smiled a little, as if Dean's confession were the amusing ramblings of a child. "Thankyou, Dean."

"I mean it, Cas. It took me a trip to Limbo to figure out why you mean so damn much to me, and why it hurt so bad when I found out about you and Crowley, but you're my family." Castiel looked up at that, and Dean tried not to be distracted by the thousands of tiny buds sprouting out of the ground all over the hillside. "You will always have family with me and Sam and Bobby, Cas. I'll make damn sure of it. And if you're ever unsure, or whatever, I'm here, I'll guide you through it. I love you, Castiel, I really do."

It took a few seconds, and then Castiel's eyes were glowing, and Dean was sure he'd never get tired of that smile. Apparently, neither would Limbo, because that was the moment the thousands of flowers around them decided to bloom into life, colour rippling through the green grass in a tsunami wave. Dean looked around him in wonder, the flowers seeming to grow and evolve before his eyes. When he looked back to Castiel, he saw the Angel's eyes were shining with unshed tears.

"Thankyou, Dean." Castiel's wings sparkled in the light of a sudden bright red sun, bursting through the clouds. "In return, I will endeavour to save you, however you need to be saved."

Dean opened his mouth to protest, but stopped as Castiel's hand turned his forearm over in his hands, his breath hitching when he saw the angry red gash sliced carelessly across the flesh, the blood barely dry. Dean winced and tried not to think about how he had felt the first time he'd seen Cas do the same to his own arm, back in the Green Room, saving him yet again.

"When I first showed you, I never imagined you'd do it to yourself." Castiel said, and his voice seemed pained. He ran a hand absently over the blood on his shirt, as if confirming that it had definitely come from Dean's arm and frowned, apparently displeased. The Angel slid his fingers over the wound, and Dean started to pull away, afraid of the pain, but found that with a simple sweep of Cas's hand, the cut vanished.

"It's crazy awesome when you do that." Dean couldn't help but say, a little breathless from watching someone perform a miracle on him.

Castiel smiled and looked a little bashful, which made Dean laugh. Cas moved his hand up Dean's arm, his fingers slipping under the damp sleeve of his t-shirt to rest on the scar beneath. Dean closed his eyes and smiled.

A sudden noise from behind Dean made both men start and look round, unable to comprehend any intrusive sound other than the shouts from Heaven in their paradise. There was no sign of any change in the atmosphere, and Dean was about to question Castiel, but as he gazed at the view of the mountainside with the sea below, much the same as the view in front of them, he began to notice a slight abnormality. A shimmer in the air was Dean's first clue, similar to the sheen above the dusty, dry roads Dean had seen hundreds of times as he drove the Impala through desert. He felt Castiel's grip tighten a little on the handprint and watched, mesmerised, as an ovular ring of light appeared in the middle of the air.

If Dean had had to describe it, he would have perhaps likened it to a misshapen hula hoop, held vertically upright yet suspended by nothing, and made of pure whitish light, big enough that Dean could easily have stepped through. He wasn't good at analogies.

It seemed not to matter however, because at that moment, the inside of the ring dissolved, leaving an ovular hole where Dean's view of the sea and sky had once been. In the centre of the hole stood a tall, blonde, ruggedly handsome man clutching a glass of whiskey.

"Balthazar." Castiel breathed, dropping his hand from Dean's shoulder at last. Dean just stared, dumbfounded at the other Angel, unable to process how he could be here at all.

"Ah, there you are. Wondered where you two'd run off to." Balthazar said almost absently, taking a sip of his drink. When nobody spoke, he leaned forwards to poke his head out of the hole and looked around a little. "Hm. Love what you've done with the place."

Dean scoffed and Balthazar looked over at him for a moment, his eyes raking up and down Dean's undoubtedly dishevelled form. Suddenly something seemed to click in the Angel's mind and he grinned, raising his eyebrows at Dean and inclining his head towards Castiel in the least subtle gesture imaginable.

"What are you doing here?" Dean blurted, feeling more than a little intruded upon. Balthazar laughed.

"It would appear I'm your taxi service out of here, boys. Unless you fancy staying in Limbo forever – although somehow I think you two wouldn't mind that so much... are those hickeys the work of my innocent little brother, Dean? Whatever have you done to him?"

Dean flushed an attractive shade of beetroot and turned to Cas, who was looking gravely at Balthazar. The Angel turned his gaze to Dean, looking a little embarrassed, but otherwise spectacularly unsurprised by Balthazar's presence and explanation of an escape route. Good enough for Dean.

"So… I don't know if you're aware of this fellas, but there is a bit of a tizzy going on next door at the moment, so if we could hurry this along…" Dean resisted the urge to punch Balthazar in the nose and reluctantly rose to his feet, holding out a hand to help Castiel up. They silently made their way over to the opening, and if Balthazar opened his mouth to comment on Dean and Castiel's still-joined hands, he shut it pretty quickly after a deadly glare from both parties.

It was far too simple to step through the rounded hole and find themselves back in reality once more. Dean hated the feel of solid, unchanging earth beneath his feet the second he had climbed through, and he wistfully stole a glance back at his and Cas's strange, beautiful world over his Angel's shoulder before the hole was swallowed up by thin air behind them.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello. I'm really sorry. I know. I'm not even going to tell you why I haven't posted this chapter for a week, because it's a ridiculous reason. Anyway, if any of you are still interested, here is the final chapter, sex and all. Hope you enjoy my lovelies! I've loved reading your reviews, you're wonderful. If you stick around, I'm writing a crack!fic next :D It's Destiel again. xxx**

They arrived back at Bobby's before Dean could properly get a glimpse of where Balthazar rescued them from, meaning one of the Angels had given him a sneaky tap on the forehead to prevent him from getting a good look around. Or so Dean guessed.

The three of them landed in the centre of the living room, earning themselves two bewildered stares from Bobby and Sam, who were knee deep in the kind of dusty, leather-bound lore books that made Dean's head hurt just looking at them. Castiel shifted uneasily under the scrutiny of the two men staring.

"Dean! Cas!" Sam suddenly cried, breaking the silence and hurtling towards them, "What the hell? Are you okay?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak but instead found himself crushed into a Sam-hug, along with Cas, meaning they were squeezed together to the point of asphyxiation. _Right, uh, I guess I don't need to say that we don't want to kill Castiel anymore… _Balthazar chuckled at the spectacle and took another casual sip of his drink.

"Sam Winchester, what the hell are you playing at, get over here. Have I taught you nothing?" Bobby suddenly yelled angrily, yanking a confused Sam backwards by the shoulder.

Before Dean could process the situation, he found himself soaked in holy water, Cas too. Dean spat the excess liquid out of his mouth and glared at Bobby.

"We're us, Bobby!" Dean growled, though in the back of his mind he noted that he had been dry before that point, meaning that the rainwater that had soaked him through in Limbo had evaporated instantly upon returning to Earth. At the memory of that particular storm, Dean couldn't help the steady heat that began to creep up his neck and flush his cheeks.

"Yes, didn't take me too long, I had an inkling where they might have eloped to…" Balthazar said, in what he probably thought was a helpful tone. "Wouldn't encourage frequenting it as a holiday resort though, I must say, it has been known to be a tad unpredictable…"

"You're telling me." Dean agreed, thinking of the giant spurts of lava, and the shuddering ice beneath his feet. When Dean looked up at Sam, he noticed his brother staring at him strangely, his head tilted in an oddly Castiel-like fashion. He glanced over at Cas, noting that the Angel's eyes were fixed on Sam as well. He seemed a little wary.

_Why isn't Sammy peppering me with a hundred and one questions about Limbo? Isn't this exactly the kind of thing that usually gives him a huge nerd boner?_

He frowned at his little brother again, vaguely noting a mildly heated discussion about the war in Heaven going on between Bobby and Balthazar. It was then that he noticed Sam's eyes flicker downwards for a split second. It was almost imperceptible, but Dean was the closest person to him in the world, and knew all his giveaways. Sam pretended to listen to Balthazar's weary explanation of Raphael's status in Heaven, and Dean followed the beeline Sam's eyes had made moments before with his own.

Dean looked down and saw his own right hand, his roughened, long fingers still entwined with Castiel's. He sucked in a breath and flicked his gaze up sharply to meet the Angel's. In the commotion of getting back here and seeing Sam, he'd forgotten he was holding Cas's hand. Did Sam care? It was such an insignificant little thing; could it really matter? He drew his hand away from Cas's and tried not to focus on the cool air that rushed between their palms.

But what was the point in pretending everything was the same now? It clearly wasn't, Sam could obviously see that. Sticking around here and catching Sam and Bobby up on him and Cas's weird little vacation to Limbo wasn't going to help stop a war that could be killing thousands of souls as they spoke. Dean decided he didn't care, Sammy was a big boy, he was just going to have to deal with the fact that he didn't understand yet. He'd come around.

Quietly, Dean caught Castiel's gaze and motioned with his head for him to follow. He tried to ignore Balthazar's wink as the two of them slipped out of the room.

* * *

Dean decided to take Cas up to his old bedroom. Not for any kinky reasons, he assured himself, although he couldn't deny that Castiel's trenchcoat-less torso, along with that un-tucked shirt, reminding him every five seconds of how it felt to slide his fingers underneath, was not giving him the purest of thoughts.

When they arrived, Dean sat down upon his bed, across the room from Sam's. He didn't like to come up here much; he preferred to sleep down on the couch if he stayed here. There were too many memories of this room, of when John would leave them here for weeks at a time, never saying when he would return, or if. Dean would have to be the strong one, like always: hug Sam when he was upset, sneak him candy bars and comic books under Bobby's nose, tell him stories about Mom even though it killed him to even conjure up the images.  
Don't get him wrong, Dean liked to remember his childhood with Sammy before everything turned to complete crap. It was memories like the ones in this room that kept him going sometimes. It was lying in the dark, night after night, long after Sammy had fallen asleep next to him, praying to a God he was getting surer and surer didn't exist. That was what Dean wanted to forget.

Castiel stood in the doorway, unsure, looking as if he were about to intrude upon Dean's personal space. _Never stopped him before, _Dean thought with a wry smile, and patted the bed next to him. Castiel headed over uncertainly, and Dean couldn't help but admire his willowy frame, so much slighter without the coat, somehow more elegant.

"So I guess Balth is here to take you home like a good brother." Dean said once Cas was sitting down beside him. Castiel picked idly at a thread in the bedcover. Dean sighed and shifted more towards him, studying the profile of his face. Suddenly, he thought of something. "Hey, Cas?"

Castiel looked up reluctantly. "Yes, Dean?"

"How come I can never see your wings… you know, usually." Castiel immediately blushed, averting his eyes, and Dean couldn't help but smile, a little confused, but hell, that was adorable.

"Y-your senses on Earth are too dull to see my wings in their true form." He was picking at the thread again. "But even if you could, I would not voluntarily show them to you unless I…" Here he seemed to falter, and Dean found himself half grinning, which could only mean that Castiel must be embarrassed. "…_displayed _myself to you in some way. For example, o-on the night we met – met officially – I had to display my wings in order to prove to you I was an Angel."

"So… when we were in la-la land…?" Dean prompted, trying not to let his smile show through his voice. Castiel sighed, then glared at Dean, seeming to know what he was doing, before pulling hard at the thread he was tugging, unravelling a section of the cloth.

"I'm not sure, I don't know how it works, but I can make an educated guess that Limbo chose to manifest my wings as a result of the… desire I began to feel towards you."

Dean grinned, he couldn't help himself. "Wait, hold up, so are you telling me that Angel wings are basically like a massive mating call to other Angels?"

"Amongst other things, yes. Obviously they have other purposes, Dean. Flying, for example would be most human's idea of a primary function for wings-"

Dean laughed and shoved Cas a bit, causing the Angel to make a cross sound in his throat, though of course he was immovable.

_So his wings came out of their hiding place in Limbo cause he wanted to jump me? Huh._

Suddenly it was the hottest thing Dean had ever heard. He narrowed his eyes a little and leaned over to Castiel, sliding an arm round his waist.

"Can you show me them now, Cas?" Dean asked in a whisper, all breath against Cas's ear. Cas bit down on his thick lower lip and squirmed a little before answering.

"We're… on a mortal plane… they won't be… they won't be like they were…" Cas's voice shuddered and jumped, which could have been due to the fact Dean was sliding his tongue along the whorls of Cas's ear, and carefully running his hand up the side of his ribcage.

"Exciting." Dean whispered, and leant back a little because damn he wanted to _see this. _

Castiel breathed out heavily, as if being released from the entrapment of Dean's arms, and looked up to meet the hunter's eyes. Emerald battling against sapphire. Dean smiled a little, and then they were _there_, huge and powerful, stretched around them, filling the corner of the room where they sat on Dean's bed.

These wings were the colour of the night sky – their feathery bases so black that it sent shivers down Dean's spine. The tips evened out into a rich, royal blue, giving each wing a shining gradient; the only things missing were the twinkling stars. Dean blinked, and tried to conjure up the image of the wings he had seen before, back in Limbo, and found he could only picture Cas surrounded by a glimmer of something ethereal, something he couldn't describe. Irritated, he pushed further, trying to remember how they had felt between his fingers. He found again that he couldn't, he just knew that he had seen them once, and that they were magnificent, and beyond explanation.

"Woah." Dean said, eloquently. Castiel smiled. "They're so… so…" Dean scrambled helplessly for the right word, but dammit it was Sammy who was the friggin' Thesaurus, not him. "dark." He finished lamely.

Castiel looked concerned, and Dean wanted to laugh again. "I thought you liked the colours of the Kansas night sky at 2am best. What colours would you like them to be, Dean?"

Dean felt tears in his eyes. This was absolutely insane. These were goddamn _Angel wings! _And Cas was asking him what colour he'd prefer them to be? As if Castiel were his car, or accessory, and he got to customise him however he wanted. Dean slid his hand round the back of Castiel's neck and pulled him forwards a little way, enough to kiss him firmly, deeply, enough to feel the soft warmth of this glorious creature's lips against his own. He leaned back very slightly, still able to feel Castiel's shallow breaths against his mouth.

"They're beautiful, Cas. You're beautiful."

He felt Cas smile as he kissed him again, and he pushed him gently backwards to lie fully on the bed, his wings splayed out around them. Leaning over and kissing an Angel of the Lord was certainly going to be a new memory to add to the list that this room had already built up for him, and as Castiel reached up to loop his hands around Dean's waist and pull him further down on top of him, Dean decided it was going to be his favourite.

He straddled Cas's waist and leaned up, vaguely noticing that they had switched positions since being in Limbo. He looked down at the Angel laying beneath him, his midnight wings draped across the bed, their inky feathers spilling over the edges onto the floor. Castiel's eyes were lidded and heavy, and Dean thought with a flicker of something that resembled fear that this time he wouldn't be able to stop once they started.

He trailed his hands up Castiel's chest and nimbly slid his top button through its hole. Castiel's breath hitched, even at this small action, and Dean smiled again.

"Cas, where's your tie?" Dean wondered aloud more than anything; his voice was quiet and he wasn't really expecting an answer. Instead he continued the process of unbuttoning Castiel's shirt, letting his fingers linger against the soft skin exposed underneath.

"Limbo…" Castiel breathed, and Dean glanced up at his closed eyes, trying to recall when exactly the tie had left Castiel's neck. He recalled seeing a glimpse of the powder blue strip of cloth against Castiel's shirt, but never after his trenchcoat was gone. Now that he thought about it… _doesn't Cas usually wear a jacket underneath that coat? Limbo sure didn't like your dress sense, Cas. _Dean smiled at the thought.

Once his shirt was open, revealing an expanse of creamy flesh, Dean ran his hands across the smooth planes of Cas's chest, feeling the ripple of muscles underneath his hands. In a swift motion he drew back and grabbed the hem of his own shirt, yanking it up over his head, wanting to level the playing field, keep himself as exposed as Cas was.

Dean dipped his head to Castiel's chest and pressed his lips against the hollow between his pectoral muscles. Cas slid a hand over Dean's left shoulder, lingering far too near his scar, and it couldn't possibly be unintentional. Dean growled a little and licked a long, thick stripe up to Castiel's collarbone, sliding his arm underneath the Angel's waist when he arched up in response. He sucked at several places on Castiel's neck, gripping him tightly and sliding a hand into his mess of hair, until Castiel was whimpering, clutching at him, and Dean could feel Cas's hands gripping him, pleading.

He was about to give in, really he was; he leaned back to drink in Castiel's expression, darkened with want, and was about to speak, when Castiel slid his hand all the way down to his scar, fitting it perfectly over the mark until Dean's skin prickled with the electric touch. He double checked, ensuring Cas knew the effect he was having. Castiel smirked.

Dean's response was instantaneous, and he pushed Castiel down into the bed, kissing him ferociously, catching his lips between his own. One hand was still tight around his waist and he used it to leverage himself, angling their hips together until he felt the firm push of Castiel's erection against his thigh, and ground his hips down to meet it, earning a strangled cry from the Angel beneath him that was lost in their joined mouths. Dean bit and licked until Cas parted his lips, and then he was inside, his tongue exploring, wrestling with Cas's as he felt hands slide down his bare back, over his ass and squeezing until he groaned a little.

All of a sudden, there were too many clothes, far too many clothes and Dean despised them. He wriggled his hand down between their bodies, gasping along with Cas when he brushed against their erections. Cas was still writhing underneath him, and the friction was _glorious _but distracting as hell – Cas was like a porn star, reacting to every touch like it was his first, his wings fluttering deliciously as though he could barely control them, and every so often Dean could hear them thump gently across the floor. He reached Cas's belt buckle and wrestled with it helplessly, only one hand available to him as Cas was lying on the other one. The wriggling from above wasn't helping, and at length he growled angrily and slid down to attack it with his teeth.

At last it sprang open, and Dean suppressed a cry of triumph, instead opting to slide back up Cas's body, capture his moist, reddened lips again and plunge his hand into the Angel's open trousers, earning him a magnificent cry of surprise and pleasure. Dean had no time for underwear, and in a rough voice he leant down to Cas's ear and told him to "take them _off."_

Castiel complied as best he could, scrambling to kick his trousers and underwear down his legs and away, _away_ as Dean began to stroke him, gripping his flushed, swollen member at the base and sliding his hand up and down, agonisingly slowly, letting his thumb run over the head, smearing the pre-cum over his hand. Cas could feel the slick as Dean worked, and felt him slowly start to speed up, his fingers like talons, seeming to know exactly when to squeeze and how it would make Cas writhe like a serpent beneath him.

Dean chuckled at the sight of Cas, utterly crazed with lust, his hands gripping Dean wherever they could, but never settling. He drew his arm out from under Cas, never stopping the rhythm of his stroke. He couldn't bear it any longer; he had thought he might be able to resist, to show Cas that he didn't need everything the Angel gave him, but there was something about them, these enormous symbols of power, that had Dean utterly at the Angel's mercy. He slid his hand up, over the ridges of Castiel's ribs, brushing against his nipple, over his tensed shoulder and then-

"Ah!" Castiel cried out, his pupils blowing wide. Sweat beaded on the Angel's forehead, and his mouth, which had been open in a blissful expression for some time, widened, and choked out a cry. But now Dean halted, one hand deep in the roots of Castiel's ebony feathers, the other wrapped around his cock, and looked down into his Angel's cerulean eyes. He just wanted to check, to see that Cas needed this, needed every bit of this as much as he did.

"D-Dean…"

Dean didn't need any more encouragement than that. He picked up the pace again, faster this time, feeling Castiel convulse underneath him, his trembling hands gripping his back for all he was worth. Dean didn't slow, his hand pumping furiously up and down Castiel's cock, and he leaned down to kiss the Angel's neck, one hand still clutching a handful of feathers, far more palpable now than they had been in Limbo.

All at once Dean felt Castiel call out his name, louder than before, and more desperate. The Angel reached his hands into Dean's hair and pulled hard, enough to cause pain, but Dean didn't care. Cas was coming, he could feel it, spurting in hot, thick jets all over his hand. He raked his hand through Cas's feathers, feeling him tense and tremble as he did so, until finally, finally he fell slack, limp, against the mattress.

"Deean…" Cas moaned brokenly, sounding like he had been drained of energy entirely.

Dean rolled to off of Cas, lying carefully next to him and smiling. He wrapped an arm around the Angel's waist and pulled him close, needing to smell the sweat on his skin. "Worth the wait, Cas?" Dean couldn't help teasing, letting his voice drop to a quiet murmur against Castiel's ear.

Cas was quiet for a moment, his eyes closed and breathing heavy, and Dean was unprepared when the Angel surged upwards, his wings giving him the perfect leverage to allow him to roll on top of him and pin him to the bed by the shoulders. Dean watched the giant, black forms flap once above him, sending ripples through Castiel's back muscles, before they settled, cocooning them in a soft, silky embrace. Noticing the direction of Dean's gaze, Castiel made an annoyed little sound, and rolled his hips once, grinding down into Dean's straining erection, reminding him of just how badly he needed this. When Dean yelped and clutched Cas's hips, the Angel smiled above him. Castiel slipped his hands smoothly down Dean's arms, stroking up and down over his scar, and making him bite his lips to keep from screaming in frustration. Dean noted the glint in his ice blue eyes and gulped.

"I think I'd prefer if we didn't wait as long, in future." Castiel said in a low voice that went straight to Dean's cock. He nodded eagerly in agreement, finding words a bit difficult as Castiel began to press wet, lingering kisses against his collarbone. He trailed lower down, pausing to brush his lips over Dean's nipple, which made the hunter immediately gasp and bury his hands back in Cas's feathers. Castiel moaned at the touch of Dean's fingers and bit down upon the sensitive flesh, just hard enough to make him wince a little, before licking his way down lower, across Dean's abdomen, placing an inhumanly strong hand against Dean's chest to hold him down, and flicking the belt and jeans button open impatiently, no need for the scrabble of human fingers.

As Castiel sank lower down, Dean could no longer keep his hold on the wings, and he felt his fingers slide out of the slippery feathers. He wanted to protest, to demand that Cas come back up here immediately so he could plunge his hands right back in, but then, with a sharp tug, Cas stripped Dean of all further garments of clothing, and he shut his mouth quickly, thinking he might know where this was going.

Dean had nothing to hold, nothing to squeeze, and he could only fist his hands into the sheets at the first touch of Castiel's lips to his cock. Castiel was merciless, pressing hard down on the hand on Dean's chest, ensuring he didn't try to move as his tongue ran curiously along his length, eliciting a drawn out moan from the other end of the bed. Dean was already trembling, and Cas could taste how he was leaking, despite being barely touched, so he flicked his tongue carefully over the head, tasting the salt and letting it fill his senses, before enveloping him.

Dean grabbed hold of the hand Cas was using to pin him, gripping it roughly, his nails digging in. He tried not to move, to just let the wet heat of Castiel's sliding mouth do its work, but he couldn't help himself. He was overwhelmed, he could feel Cas everywhere, his naked body draped over his legs, his swirling, trembling feathers sweeping over random patches of skin, and he writhed, arching up into Cas. A few long, slow sucks and Dean let out a strangled noise, reaching his fist up to his mouth and clamping his teeth around it to muffle the sound. He felt a shock of pleasure burst through him, under skin and he came, shouting Cas's name, Cas swallowing every bit like he had never tasted anything better.

Dean's eyes were closed, and he eventually felt the last dregs of his orgasm fade away, so he blinked, feeling Cas slide off him and creep back up to lie beside him, close enough that Dean could feel their skin stick with sweat. Vaguely, Dean noticed the sudden absence of wings. He was still clutching Cas's hand to his chest, and he limply tugged it up to meet his lips, Cas seeming to go along with what Dean wanted now. He pressed a chaste kiss to the palm and turned to smile at Cas.

They watched each other in silence for a few moments, each feeling the necessity of this moment, to just lie together, being in this moment for a little while. Eventually Cas spoke.

"Dean, you know, I will need to return to Heaven, now."

Dean looked down at his chest where their fingers still intertwined. He nodded once.

"I only want what is best for you and the people of Heaven. I do…trust you, Dean. I certainly have faith in you. I see that I was wrong not to follow that faith now. If you say you can do this, help me defeat Raphael, then I believe you. Thank you for offering to help me at all. I will tell Crowley that our deal is no longer of value." Dean looked up at that, finding himself lost in the blue of Cas's eyes when he was this close. This was more than he could have hoped for.

"Cas…" The Angel smiled, his eyes crinkling.

"There. I did it, I made you happy." Castiel said fondly. Suddenly, his expression turned grave. "It will take much longer now. The road ahead will be bloody, I have no doubt of that." Dean watched the light flood back into Castiel's eyes and marvelled, once again, at how expressive he could be if you paid attention. "But perhaps… if I get you at the end of it… it will be worth it."

He looked a little embarrassed at that, and Dean thought he saw the beginnings of a blush begin to creep into his cheeks. He was ridiculously glad that Cas seemed to be able to say that kind of thing - even if he did turn fifty shades of beetroot every time - because he himself was the most emotionally stunted, unhealthily repressed, no-chick-flick kind of guy he knew, and so instead he pulled his hand out of Cas's, wrapped it around the back of his neck and tugged him forwards for a kiss.

Right now, everything was fucked. There was a war as fiery as the pits of Hell raging upstairs and he'd just gone on a who-the-hell-knows-how-long holiday to nowhere-land right when he needed to lead the troops into battle. Sure, his Angel had come back to him, like deep down he hoped he would, and sure it was more than he ever dared hope for to be able to cradle that same Angel in his arms, but he wasn't delusional. Everything was not rosy, and there was a lot of shit headed their way before they could allow themselves any kind of honeymoon period.

Castiel rested his head against Dean's shoulder and closed his eyes. Dean kissed the mop of black hair brushing gently at his cheek and held him close. He could hear Sammy downstairs, his voice loud and piercing; he sounded pissed off. Probably arguing with Balthazar. Probably demanding to know what the hell was going on. Dean knew he needed to go downstairs, to get Sammy up to speed, he needed to roll Cas off, kiss him one last time, send him packing back to Heaven to start the long process of sorting out his troublesome family…

He looked down at Cas's face, a hint of a smile stretching his pink lips. His eyes were closed to the world, perfectly content to just lie here, though Dean knew he didn't sleep. Dean smiled widely. Just five more minutes.


End file.
